Bloodline
by VenusJay
Summary: An AU where the prince of Macedon; Alexander the Great, has a younger sister. This story will follow their lives as they navigate the tricky path to the throne. Love, family, angst and drama. I am forever grateful for comments and messages from you.
1. Chapter 1

Hephaestion sat with Alexander in one of the alcoves in the banquet room. The feast given by Philip had reached a crescendo of laughter and jeering and the two boys watched as every grown person in the room transgressed back to childhood with each cup of wine. It did not escape their notice that an attractive young woman was draped across the King as seamlessly as the ornate robe he wore. Hephaestion found himself gently gripping Alexander's hand as they watched her. He knew that his best friend must take pain in seeing his father fawn over other women and yet curse his mother.

All around the room serving boys and girls bowed their heads as food was greedily snatched from the platters they bore. Alexander smiled to one of the boys that he and a few others had been playing with earlier. He had remarked to Hephaestion that the boy made a surprisingly good sparring partner with such a lack of formal training; even with imaginary swords.

As the night wore on the young prince laughed and joked with Hephaestion but barely spoke with anyone else at the party, given that they were so much older. At times Alexander suspected he was only here for the obligation of being seen to still exist. Perhaps to watch his father and learn how a King is to behave around his men.

"Alexander," Philip said in mock surprise as he stumbled towards them. His outburst drew the attention of the room and in turn many people swivelled to stare at the prince.

"Yes, father," Alexander replied clearly. Hephaestion noted that he did not seem in the least uncomfortable with the attention and he wished that he could feel the same, especially as he felt the heat rise to his cheeks as it so often did.

"I have thrown a party," his father shouted jovially. He gestured wildly around the guests who all seemed very drunk.

"You have , father."

"So why, dare I ask you, do you defy me? You sit here away from everyone? You should be enjoying yourself!"

"I am enjoying myself. Very much papa. But I do not have the grace of conversation enough to entertain your guests. I have not seen the world like you have."

Cleitus laughed to himself at the nearest table, noting the fine flattery his nephew could spin like a web from his mind. It never failed with Philip who's laugh boomed around the room as he looked fondly to his son. He resumed his own festivities and it was then that Hephaestion noticed something strange.

"Alexander," he nudged the other's arm. "Look there! Do you see it?"

He was pointed to what looked like a leg poking out from beneath the cloth that covered the main table where the royal guard where seated. However it was so small that it must have belonged to a doll. Hephaestion and Alexander exchanged a glance and promptly began giggling. With great stealth and perfect timing they managed to slip undetected beneath the sheet and Alexander found himself face to face with his younger sister.

"Delia," he whispered with a laugh as he noted that she was having her own miniature feast beneath the table, her doll seated awkwardly with a plate of food from above. The prince couldn't help but smile to see her big eyes and dark brown curls as she held a tiny finger to her lips.

"Ssssh," she whispered dramatically. "If I am discovered, I will be sent to bed."

Hephaestion looked to Alexander with a look of amusement even whilst they were crammed under the table. Having just turned thirteen they had sprouted limbs they were not yet fully aware of and more and more places were seemingly difficult to hide. He grunted sharply as a foot jerked beneath the table, kicking him, the owner of it too drunk to care.

"That's exactly where you should be Delia," he said sternly. Her lip began to quiver and he realised how cross he must have looked and did his best to soften his features. She was not to know his concerns about the disordly conduct of the adults at events like these. He knew only too well what frequently ocurred as the night grows later. He decided then that he would have to take her back to their mother but would have to coax her cleverly.

"Well, Hephaestion and I would be honoured to join your feast."

"Yes, we would," Hephaestion agreed enthusiastically when he saw the signal from his friend. "But this table is much too small for us. Perhaps there is somewhere else we could have it, princess?"

Alexander very nearly sighed when he saw her eyes light up at being called 'princess'.

"Perhaps you could find us a beautiful new place that we could all fit? And then Hephaestion and I could sneak some of the really delicious food," he added when he saw that her plates only had some of the bread and grapes. He noted that they were the things closest to the edge of the table; the only things she could reach. "But, if you would rather stay here, Hephaestion and I can leave you in peace to enjoy your meal," he said slowly.

"No," she shouted and realised too late she should have been whispering. The cloth of the table was pulled up and one of the soldiers was peering at them. The prince was all too aware that they looked like startled animals as he and Hephaestion crouched on their hands and knees. Laughter broke out around the room as the soldier moved aside for them to make a gangly exit. Alexander reached out to scoop his sister from under the table, cuddling her close to his side as he bent down for her doll. He left the small plates and instead motioned to Hephaestion to lift one of the central platters from the soldiers table.

"I know you will not mind, the princess requires it for her feast," he said hopefully to the drunken men. He was surprised when they smiled and cooed at the young girl at his hip.

"Now aren't you very pretty, your grace," one of them said kindly.

"I do not wish to be pretty," she replied casually as she played with the clasp on her brother's robe.

"What do you wish to be then," the eldest of them asked her, the rest of the men remaining quiet so that she could speak.

"I want to be brave and clever. Like a soldier," she said sweetly and Alexander smiled to see how easily she had them all wrapped around her finger. They were almost clucking like hens, he thought to himself.

"And who is your favourite soldier," a young man that Alexander knew to be called Atolios, asked. Delia seemed to think for a moment or two and her brother had to adjust her weight on his hip. Hephaestion motioned that he would take her but Alexander shook his head.

"Alexander and Hephaestion," she replied confidently after a moment.

"That's two people," the first soldier corrected her but she just seemed to laugh.

"No, that's silly. They're not."

Hephaestion's eyebrows raised almost as high as most of the men.

"But they're not soldiers, Princess."

She didn't seem to have an answer for that so buried her face in Alexander's neck with her doll. He nodded to the table in the grown up way he saw his father do and he and Hephaestion made their way through the crowds of people towards the door.

"Alexander, my boy," Cleitus lightly took hold of his arm as he passed. He smiled at Delia and despite the sleep overpowering her she reached out for him in a hug, balanced between her brother and her uncle. Hephaestion rested the edge of the heavy plate on the table next to them and watched as the young woman he had seen with the King gracefully walked towards them. She swayed a little in her walk and the young boy couldn't distinguish between what was drunkenness and what was prowess.

"What have we here," she said loudly in a sultry voice. Her dress was just barely draped over one breast and Alexander felt himself averted his eyes as heat rose to his cheeks. His eyes flickered to Hephaestion who didn't show any embarassment.

"What a pretty little thing," she cooed as Cleitus moved aside.

"Say hello, Delia," Alexander said warily as his eyes met his father's a few feet away from them. He could feel his watchful gaze and wanted to be done with this quickly.

"Hello," his sister said to no one in particular as she twirled the raggedy hair on her doll. "This is papa's feast, did you know? He has them sometimes. But I'm not allowed to go," she pouted.

"Is that so," the woman replied in over the top astonishment. "Well, I feel very honoured to have been invited. And I was so excited to meet the young princess. I have heard so much about her," her teeth flashing as she spoke.

"I'm the princess," Delia said excitedly and pointed to herself. "Alexander and Hephaestion are princes and I am the princess."

"Oh no, sweetling. Alexander is the prince, yes. But there is only one prince. And your papa is the King. He is a very great man."

"Sometimes. Other times he will not play with me," she rested her head back on Alexander's shoulder and seemed to be dozing off to sleep. The woman chuckled to herself and smiled warmly as Philip as he staggered towards them. Alexander felt his stomach wretch at the smell when his father leaned in to kiss Delia on the forehead.

"Barely five years and better conversation than you, my boy," Philip laughed as he clapped his son on the back. "Now off to bed with you," he motioned and Hephaestion quickly lifted the plate once more, glad to finally be free of the stuffy banquet.


	2. Chapter 2

Alexander could barely keep his eyes open. To him, it felt as though he had been made to drink a cup of sand and rub salt into his own eyes. He could scarcely remember a time when he had felt this ill. It was not helped by the scorching midday sun that attempted to stream through the balcony. His mother, in a moment of kindness, had ordered cloth to be draped around the bed to block out as much of the light as possible and various servants took turns in fanning the young boy. Comments were made every now and then that his temperature had not lowered and many speculations were shared about what it could be, if it was contagious and where it had come from.

Olympia paced the room, periodically applying a compress to her son and making loud and over the top offerings to the gods to heal him. Alexander wondered whether he might die or whether she was being dramatic. He suspected the latter but didn't want to rule out the first. His father was not allowed to visit him on the request of his advisors. They obviously didn't want to place two male members of the bloodline at risk and so Alexander contemplated whether he might ever see his father again. He realised he didn't particularly mind but it did remind him of Hephaestion's absence. He gave a loud, frustrated groan and there was a flurry of movement around him, adjusting his bed sheets and applying a cloth to his heated skin. He wanted to yell; to tell them that he wanted his friend with him but he couldn't find the strength to articulate the words.

"Alexander," he heard his name in almost a whisper.

"No, no, no," his mother hissed sharply. "You are not to be here. Alexander is very sick. You must stay with Mania, go."

There was a clattering of what seemed like bracelets and he heard whimpering from far away before closing his eyes and giving into exhaustion.


End file.
